Adventures in Analogies About Eggs
by mrs.milfoy
Summary: A summer adventure involving Draco and Harry on an egg-citing quest to find Draco's missing mother! Romance! Thrills! Danger! Humor! Strawberries! Bromance! MURDER! Nah, jk. There's no murder. Enjoy!
1. Chapter 1

Introduction: Dude, Where's My Mom?

Draco Malfoy did _not_ (as a general rule) _burst_ through doors. It was an affront to his debonair sensibilities. He preferred to leisurely _glide_ over all thresholds, exuding a 'no fucks given' attitude. He fancied himself better at it than his father ever had been, and always sought to prove himself better at things than his father ever had been. In the six years since the end of the second wizarding war (or as Draco referred to it - 'the utter shite time'), and the five years since his father's suicide (or as Draco referred to it - 'the cowardly bollock-off'), this constant one-upsmanship had served him well. He'd vastly improved the Malfoy name, and earned a rather comfortable place as the youngest wizard to served on the Wizengamot. (And he liked to pretend that the still admirable Malfoy fortune had nought to do with any of that, but rather his symbolic propensity for gliding over thresholds.)

But today - in this case - he made his first exception, and he burst through the door labeled **Department of Missing Witches and Wizards and Wherewithal**.

The wizard at the desk inside the dim and somewhat dusty office shot up from his dim and somewhat dusty desk like a vampire in a beam of sunlight. "What the -"

"I need to make a report." Draco announced tightly, He was very good at interrupting.

"A report?" The other wizard was obviously taken aback. He blinked nap out of surprised eyes, and adjusted sleek (new) glasses on his nose.

"Yes! I need to report someone missing, Potter! That's why I...burst in here like a great panicked nunce!"

"Oh. Oh!" Harry Potter smoothed his rumpled red robe. "Well, hell, Malfoy. Er…" He drew his wand, not quite snapping into action. "Um...have a seat." A wave later, a dim and somewhat dusty velvet chair sauntered over. Harry waved again and a file cabinet drawer creaked open. He began extracting and re-inserting folders, seeking out the right one. "I'm afraid you've caught me rather...off guard."

"You don't say?" Draco started to sit, paused. He extracted a white kerchief from his pocket and swiped at the dust on the chair. Then sat. Watched balefully, chewing at his lip, while Potter rifled through papers piss poorly attempting to collect his shit. "This _is_ what you do now, right?"

"Uh. Yes." Harry cleared his throat. Sat. Picked up a quill. The quill wavered in his trembling fingers. It flipped onto the desk and Harry grappled with it again. "I mean. Just recently, yes."

"Recently."

"I returned from training yesterday."

"Lovely." Draco wiped at his face, leaning forward in the chair.

Harry set his jaw, absorbing the gravity of this situation. "Now." He took a deep breath. "The um- the name of the missing party?" His quill was upside down in his hand. He righted it swiftly, hopefully unnoticed by the worried wizard across from him.

"My mother."

"Your - your mother?!" Harry dropped the quill again.

"Yes, I assume you know her name."

"Of course I do!" He gripped the quill determinedly this time. "I - I just saw her."

"She told me."

"She told you?" He swallowed. "What?"

"She told me she saw you, Potter!" Draco slapped his knees in frustration. "On her bloody vacation!"

"Right!" Harry prepared to jot down pertinent information, only completely slightly flustered. "So you did see her recently."

"I saw her Wednesday evening. When she returned from America."

"Alright. Alright." Harry stopped. Put down the quill. Laid his hands calmly on his desk. "Let's...calm down."

"I assure you I'm perfectly fucking calm, Potter. Considering I've a family member missing for nigh on two days now."

Harry's forehead creased. So did his lips. "Start at the beginning, Malfoy."

"What? The...beginning when?"

"The very beginning." Potter prepared to write again.

"Alright." Draco crossed his legs. "I was born on a particularly rainy morning. I'm told it was -"

"Draco."

"Hm?"

"Start with the last time you saw your mother."

"Well that makes more bloody sense, doesn't it, Potter? Shoddy training they gave you in America." Harry sighed. "She returned home late Wednesday evening. The 13th I believe." Potter was writing. "The wards announced her around eight. I met her at the doors. We had tea. The elf brought her bags in."

"How did she seem?" Professional.

Draco shrugged. "She was tired. Said so. Long distance apparation, you know."

"Was she...alright?" Quiet.

"She seemed fine other than being exhausted, yes."

"Good." Harry flipped a page. "Did you speak much? What did she talk about?"

"Not a lot. She told me we would talk more over breakfast. She went to bed."

"I see. And...at breakfast? On the 14th?"

"I didn't see her."

"So she was missing before breakfast."

"I don't know."

"How can you not know?"

"I...peeked into her room on my way to breakfast. It looked like she was still in bed, so I left her alone. I had breakfast by myself, and left for the Ministry around nine."

"So you saw her in bed."

"I assumed so."

"You saw her or you didn't."

"I saw a pile of blankets, Potter! I didn't climb in there and perform a gynecological examination! It's my mother!"

Harry held up his hands in a surrender. "Right! Right. Sorry, Malfoy. I just need to be very clear on the last time you saw her definitely."

"The evening of the thirteenth. As she went to bed."

Harry scribbled. "Any information from the elf?"

"No. I asked Moron if he'd seen Mistress and he said no. He'd last prepared her tea with me that same evening."

"Your elf's name is Moron."

"No, Potter. Not that it's important, but the elf's name in Morton. I simply _call_ him Moron because he _is_ one."

Harry shook his head, dismissing the elf's name and/or nickname. "So. You returned from the Ministry at what time on the fourteenth?"

"Around 6 pm. For dinner."

"And I assume that's when you discovered your mother was missing."

"Yes. She didn't appear for dinner, and I couldn't find her on the grounds anywhere."

"You checked thoroughly."

"Yes. The greenhouses. The bath. All the places she would spend an exorbitant amount of time. I even did a wand trace."

"Really?" Harry grew more concerned. "And even the wand trace revealed nothing?"

"No. Her wand is missing. Active, but untraceable by my magic."

"Perhaps we should consult the general auror department, Malfoy. There are specialists who can perform much more far-reaching traces."

"I did. This morning. They said to give you this." He extracted a document from his suit jacket and handed it over.

Harry glanced it. "These are wand coordinates, Malfoy. This could be the location of your mother. All of this may be unnecessary!" He rose, intending to visit coordinates. Intending to solve his first official missing witch case dexterously and successfully. Draco froze him.

"She's not there. They went. Early this morning. They came back and reported that the trace was basically...a fake. A um…"

"A decoy." Harry sunk back to his chair. Decoys were tricky. Illegal, for one thing. It was highly disapproved of to hide oneself magically, especially in the sensitive times after the war. An old Death Eater trick frowned upon by the magically moral. But it could also mean foul play. It was common for more nefarious types to hide the locations of kidnapped witches or wizards or by setting decoys of their wand traces. "So that means one of two things," Harry murmured, more to himself.

But Malfoy heard quite clearly. "What two things?"

Potter squared up. "Either she's hidden her own tracks, made her magical signature untraceable… or someone else has." Draco looked a bit faint. "Any reason to believe someone would kidnap your mother?"

"No!" Draco rose and began pacing. "She's been a bloody hermit for nearly four years now! You know that! She hadn't seen the sun in so long she was practically transparent. That's why I encouraged her so strongly to take that vacation!" Suddenly he stopped. Whirled on Harry. "You saw her on vacation, Potter. She said the two of you spent some time together. Did anyone accost her? Was she threatened...or -"

"No, Malfoy." Harry reassured. "She mostly kept to herself. I was the only person she really had any socializing with at all." He sighed. "It doesn't make any sense. No breaches of the wards?"

"No. We would know immediately."

"No signs of struggle? Nothing amiss."

"No. Bloody elf doesn't let a dust ball hit the floor without hearing it. The manor is impeccable as usual."

"Well, then." Harry stood. Closed the file. "I'll begin."

"Begin what?"

"My investigation, Malfoy. This is what I do, now, as you pointed out. I'm going to find your mother. And I need to start at Malfoy Manor."

Draco brightened, if only a little. "I'll have Moron put the kettle on."

"Yeah." Harry pocketed his wand. "I'll meet you there momentarily. Need to turn this in and check in with my superiors."

"Right." Draco turned in the door, nearly colliding with a hurried Harry. "Potter."

"What?"

"Thanks. For doing this. I know it's -"

"It's my first case, Malfoy." Harry gestured into the busy hallway. "Let me get on with it."

* * *

If Harry felt any nervousness or worry over his first case, and he did, he at least attempted to hide it well. He tried to look like one of those suave muggle detectives from the tellie as he entered the research department. "Hey, Hermione. I need a coordinate check." He flashed the document. His bushy-haired Gryffindor friend had been actively sought by the Ministry's Magical Law Enforcement for their research department. Having the 'brightest witch of her age' on staff could no doubt benefit anyone, but she'd felt particularly keen for law. It seemed an old 'do what's right' initiative still compelled her into womanhood.

Granger looked up from her book and removed her feet from her desk. "Well, hello to you, too."

"Yeah, hello. Sorry."

She smiled, unrolling the parchment. "You got a case?"

"Yeah. Malfoy's mother."

"Oh! They _did_ give it to you!"

His face screwed up charmingly. "What? Were they not going to give it to me?"

She was summoning maps from a wall of bookshelves. "Murphy tried to send Draco to Cotspole or one of the other seniors. But…" She found the map she waws looking for. "He was pretty insistent on having you."

"Really?"

She nodded. "Said his mother had spoken highly of you in her letters from Florida."

"Oh." He chewed his lip again.

"Here you are." Hermione swung a ridiculously huge magnifying glass over the map. Its magic scanned and zoomed until a field was visible in the lens. Just...a field. "Looks like...Estonia." She announced.

"Estonia?"

"One of the Baltic nations," Granger began. "Rich in culture and very geographically diverse. Vast farmlands, modern villages and cities, beaches, shipping ports, forest land for -"

"I know what Estonia _is_ , Hermione." Harry groused, snatching back the coordinates. Sometimes her intellectual condescension was deeply annoying. "I'm just trying to figure why."

She scowled. "Well, I might be able to offer some helpful information, but since you know _all_ the fuck about Estonia, I don't suppose it would be helpful at all." She turned away.

Harry stared at her flyaway curls and quietly counted to ten. "I didn't say I knew _all the fuck about_ Estonia. And honestly any information you have would be greatly appreciated."

She turned back to him, grinning. "Well. It is home to Lamwich Forest."

"Lamwich Forest? I'm not familiar."

"You shouldn't be. It's a forest."

"Really?" He deadpanned.

"Supposedly heavily secreted."

"Of course."

"And completely inhabited by witches - and only witches - on the lam."

"Huh." Made sense. "On the lam from what?"

She shrugged. "Whatever a witch might go on the lam from, Harry. Crime. Debt. Husbands. Maybe excessive media attention surrounding their involvement with harboring the Dark Lord during the war and subsequent revelation of how bloody great they truly are by the Chosen One after they lie about his death in a different forest entirely at sunrise after a devastating battle took out numerous agents for the light including fucking children?" She blinked and smiled sweetly.

"Thanks, Hermione. I'll look into it." He left her desk grumbling about insufferable know it alls.

His next stop was equally frustrating. The auror pool was quiet with most duty aurors out on various patrols. Captain Murphy was reviewing a case file when Harry approached. "Captain."

"Yes, yes, yes, I know." Murphy was a gruff old wizard with a long black beard and suspicious eyes. "The Malfoy case."

"Yes, sir. I wanted your permission to depart and start my investigation."

"Awfully sensitive stuff for your first case, Potter. I highly recommend you pass it on, or pass on it altogether."

"I can't do that, sir."

"I'll level with you, Harry." Murphy stood, leveling with Harry. "Sometimes...a witch on the run ought to be let run."

"You think she's run on her own, sir?"

"I do."

"But we can't guarantee that." Harry insisted. "What if she's in danger?"

Murphy let out a righteous guffaw. "Narcissa Black Malfoy grew up with Bellatrix Lestrange as a sister and Voldemort for a bloody houseguest, Harry. I doubt she's in danger. Could probably throw a hex with the best of 'em."

Harry tried to relax. Tried to understand the reasoning. "I know, sir. But...I need to do this. To offer Draco peace of mind and to learn my own lessons. With all due respect."

"Then I'll offer my own respect, Auror Potter. I think it's a fool's errand, but you've got to cut your eye teeth on something." He sighed. "Best get to work, then. There's a witch in peril somewhere."

Harry rolled his eyes as he left, wondering if he really was on a fool's errand. Wondering if he really was a fool…

* * *

Malfoy Manor was really quite stunning. In the light of a clear day, and outside of its dank, depressing cellar, Harry found it beautiful. Gothic spires appeared more grandiose and less grudging. Shadowed gables were draped in white and blossoming tea roses. Aaaand Draco Malfoy was standing in the door.

"Took you long enough."

"This is a process, Malfoy. I can't just drop everything and apparate to a set of coordinates."

"Yes, you can."

"Just - just show me to her room. I'll start there."

Draco left Harry to explore Narcissa's room, claiming he needed to 'wrap up some things.' So there was blissful quiet.

The room was what he expected. Neat and soft. Highly lacquered floors and plush rugs. Velvet drapes in heavy folds. Several wardrobes on the far wall were open and in disarray. Drawers cracked, clothing spilling out...very uncharacteristic of the proper and organized witch he'd come to know in Florida. One wardrobe contained several shrunken valises and such. Luggage. It seemed recently disturbed, several suitcases perched diagonally over a gap. Harry took note. If she'd returned recently from a vacation, he expected more to see luggage _back_ in place. Or scattered about in the process of unpacking. Instead, it looked as though more was missing. Curious...

The bed was unmade. A lump of bedding did look suspiciously like a person's form. Harry tossed the emerald satin bedding back to reveal...nothing but a silver slip of silken nightgown. He stared at it for a moment, swallowing back something. His fingertips just barely brushed the material.

"Taking hair samples or something, Potter?"

He jumped at Malfoy's voice. "I suspect she left of her own accord, Draco. Doesn't look like she even unpacked."

"I know. I thought the same thing." Draco sat at the foot of the massive bed. "I just can't figure why she would leave. What could have happened that would send her running off without so much as a word to me?"

"Any strange mail come for her?"

Draco shook his head. Pointed to a desk in an alcove. "It's all over there. The elf stacked it up for her while she was gone."

Harry sifted through the pile of rolled parchments. There were only a few. Most hadn't even been touched, still bound or sealed with elaborate waxy sculpture. But one was clearly opened… He grabbed it quickly, sensing Draco's approach, and stashed it in his robe. "Anything threatening?" Draco asked.

"No. All looks pretty above board to me." He cleared his throat. "Anything else missing from the house? Food? Money?"

"Actually, yes. I had the elf take inventory while I waited forever for you. Six bottles of wine are missing from the cellar, and about a hundred galleons that we kept in this stupid fish statue near the floo. You know. Pocket change."

The fact that the Malfoys thought of a hundred galleons as pocket change went ignored for the moment. "Would anyone other than yourself, your mother or the elf have access to the wine or the galleons?"

"No."

"Right." Harry had seen all he needed to see. His initial worry had been replaced by determination. The witch had left of her own accord. "That's all I need, Malfoy. I'll be on my way, and I'll keep in touch."

"What do you mean you're on your way?"

"I'm going to try to track down your mum. Shouldn't be that difficult, actually. I have a bit of a lead."

"Yeah? Well, I'm going with you so you can tell me all about it."

"No, no, no, no, no." Harry put a hand on Draco's advancing shoulder. "You can't go with me, Draco. This is auror business. Serious stuff. I've got to handle it."

"Um...no, no, no, no, no, yourself." Draco put a hand on Harry's hand still on his shoulder. "I appreciate that you're being official and all but a few things, please; one, you're still basically a rookie at this, fresh out of training. Let's face it - you can't even hold a quill properly. Two, this is my mother, and she's all I've left in the world. And if you think I trust you to run off half cocked looking for her based on a hunch and some decoy coordinates, you're dead bloody wrong. Three, I'm bored to fucking tears wading through Wizengamot bureaucracy, and I'm not going to pace around this soggy old catacombs waiting for your floo call every night like some weeping wisp of a schoolgirl hoping for a date to the Yule ball. You savvy?"

"Draco, there is protocol to be followed here! Procedures!"

"What bloody procedures?" He grabbed Harry's shoulders, shaking them a bit. "If a mudbl - muggle loses the ignition keys to their...primitive, petrol-powered pollutant-spewing vehicle, do they follow protocol? Procedures? Hell, no, Potter. They just go looking for them! Simple as that! And they find them and -"

"You're comparing your mother to a set of muggle car keys, Malfoy. It's not at all similar."

"I fucking disagree. She's quite small. I've misplaced her before. Potter, the inescapable reality here is that whether my mother is a set of keys or a formidable witch whom I might be secretly terrified of, I'm accompanying you on this little venture so you might as well gird your loins to it."

"Merlin's saggy sack, man!" Harry shoved Draco away. But there was surrender in his manner. Draco sensed it. "You're one of the most frustrating people I've even known in my goddamned life, Malfoy."

"Did you expect me to change, Potter? I mean... _really_ change?" He scoffed. "Come on. We're burning daylight. Where are we apparating to?"

Harry closed his eyes for a moment, resigning himself to fate, and preparing himself for uncertain adventure.

 _Up next...strawberry fields, Amazonian warriors, gourmet cheeses, and a talking goat. I'm lying about one of those things. Guess which._


	2. Live Deliciously

Live Deliciously

Harry swirled quietly into his apparation. Aurors were trained for such things. Stealth was tantamount. He'd set himself smoothly - dropped into a crouch - in a vast field of -

"Strawberries!" Draco exclaimed following his own apparation's loud pop.

Harry winced, standing. "Yeah. Strawberries."

And not anything else. For as far as the eye could see, the wizards were surrounded by a vast field of strawberries. Malfoy took a deep breath. "Smells amazing."

Harry drew his wand, muttered under his breath, and silvery runes danced in the air before them. "That way." He gestured west. "Nearly a kilometer. There's a village. I say we start there. Makes sense your mother would head to a village after setting this decoy." He started walking.

Draco started following. "Unless," he began ominously, "she was dragged there by some villainous villain."

Harry smirked. "I'd like to see a villain try to drag your mother anywhere."

Draco removed his suit jacket, shrunk it, and stuffed it into a his trouser pocket. "You've a point."

The strawberry leaves sussed at their steps. The ripe, pink-red berries clashed with the blood-red of Harry's auror cloak. A slightly overcast sky looked down on their journey, and in the distance, a hawk called. "Peaceful here," Draco noted.

"Used to be," Harry replied.

Malfoy scowled. "At least it's nice weather for a walk. Why can't we just apparate?"

"Two strange wizards, one an auror, pop into the middle of your peaceful possibly muggle village and start asking questions? How effective d'you think that would be?"

"More or less effective than two strange wizards, one an auror, traipsing unannounced into your peaceful possibly muggle village, drenched in sweat and strawberry gizm, asking questions."

Harry scowled. "Shut up, Malfoy." Occasionally, runes fizzled in mid-air, guiding them. Potter watched them determinedly.

"Just trying to make small talk." Draco groused.

"You're distracting me."

"From what? Knowing which direction is west? Pfft."

"I'm looking for signs your mother passed this way. Clues, Malfoy."

"Like what? A...corner of a gourmet cheese? Broken varnished nail? Bit of over-priced skirt suit? Tell me what to look for."

"More like hair. Like this." Harry held in mid-air a long, wavy strand of icy blonde. Easily missed, but shimmery when it caught the light. He dropped it. "Or footprints. Blood. Anything."

"If we find blood, I might not make it."

"I'd say blood is highly unlikely."

"Because you think she came here of her own accord."

"Exactly."

"Why?"

"That's an excellent question." They walked in silence for a while. It was wonderful, really. But (as Harry expected) short-lived.

"So. What did you talk about?" Malfoy asked.

"Who?" Harry was distracted, noticing some short, brown animal hairs clinging to a sticky strawberry. He plucked a few. Waved his wand over them briskly, then discarded them.

"You and my mother. On her vacation. She said you spent a great deal of time together, and I know my mother's tolerance leans not toward fools. I just wonder what fascinated her so about you."

Potter paused, seeming frustrated with the line of questioning. "Nothing, really."

"Bollocks."

"Interests, I guess, Malfoy." Harry shrugged. "We talked about...Hogwarts. My friends. A book. Art. We played some wizard's chess. Ate a few meals together."

"She _ate_ with you?" Draco was impressed. "She doesn't eat with anyone. Barely even me."

"We had some...common grounds."

"Did you talk about the war?"

"Why the hell would you ask that?"

"Because I know you, Potter. Believe it or not. I know how your mind works and I imagine you've been mulling over it long enough. Wanting to know why and all."

"Wanting to know why what?"

"Why she did it. In the forest that day. Lied to Voldemort."

"Oh." Disconcerting… "Yeah, we actually did talk about that."

"Did she tell you?"

"She did."

"She did?!" Draco stopped suddenly, grabbed at Harry's cloak.

Harry turned. "What?" Impatient.

"Why, then?"

Potter blinked. "Did...did she never tell you?"

"She just told me she had her reasons."

Harry softened. It was obvious Malfoy was genuinely bothered. "She said...that she was tired of struggling in a world where children had to exist in fear for their lives. She said she was damned either way, so she just risked the darkness for the light."

"Huh." Draco was perturbed. Disappointing that his mother would open up to this Gryffindor while her own son muddled through her mysteries. "Did she really say it all poetically like that?"

"Something to that effect, yes." Harry waited a tic. "Can we go on, now?" In answer, Draco brushed past him. Potter shook his head, following. Seeing a slightly sullen Malfoy was...a touch maliciously inspiring. "She talked about you a lot."

"What'd she say?"' Feigned disinterest.

"Nothing really important. Interesting to learn how late you were in potty training, though."

"She didn't say that!"

Harry laughed. "Maybe not."

"I hate you, Potter."

They traveled for some time in silence, pausing again when Harry spotted smoke on the horizon. "Stop." He gestured. Malfoy followed his line of vision.

"The village?"

Harry nodded, casting a focus spell. The specialized auror magic brought the village - too far away to be remotely visible - into a television-like square before them. With a few utterances, Harry had adjusted it to a finely detailed close-up. Draco leaned in close over his shoulder, studying the scene.

It was idyllic, really. Clean, dirt roadways. Neat huts and houses. Chickens darted about. People could be seen going about their daily lives. It was practically plucked from a muggle fairy tale, or from a simpler past. On the edge of a rustic fence, a brown goat seemed to be squinting directly at them.

Harry dismissed the vision with a wave. He removed his cloak and shrunk it. "Alright, listen."

"Yeah?"

"We're going in here like two regular travelers, alright?"

"Alright."

"We'll say...we're looking for your mum who might have traveled this way, as well."

"Honesty is the best policy."

"And whether this is a magical or a muggle village, no mention that I'm an Auror, right?"

"Why not?"

"Because if this _is_ a remotely dodgy establishment, we're better off on the more neutral side of the law."

"Makes sense. Oh!" Draco suddenly remembered. "I brought a picture." He extracted a wizarding photo of Narcissa from his back pocket. In it, she turned reluctantly toward the camera, crisp black suit imprisoning her, mouth in a line of disapproval.

"I have one, myself, Malfoy." Harry extracted his own photo. "This _is_ my job." He handed the picture to Draco. "Come on."

But Draco was slow to follow. This witch in Potter's picture was...not his mother. Some nearly girlish beauty flashing a coy smile over a bare shoulder, waves crashing behind her. Obviously taken on her vacation. But...taken by Potter?

"Draco!" Harry hissed. "You coming?"

"Yeah." He slipped both pictures into his pocket.

They wandered into the village quite leisurely, really. Proud of their perfectly natural naturalness. But it seemed their ease was hardly necessary. They were mostly ignored. People bustled by doing people things. Harry looked for a somewhat official establishment - a post facility, a storefront, anything that might encourage some interaction. But it seemed this was a relatively self-sufficient village. Chickens clucked and ran about. They passed a paddock of pigs. Vegetables flourished here and there and vining beans were ready for picking. "Damn," he muttered.

"What?"

"Looks like we're going to have to stop someone."

"Right, then." Draco turned, swift to assess. "Excuse me, sir!"

"Shit." Harry cursed, not prepared for his companion's exuberance, but turned suit, smiling quick.

A rather gruff gent with a load of bramble on his back slowed. "Aye?"

Draco gave a brief bow. "Pardon my intrusion upon your...bramble business. My friend and I are looking for my mother. We were...separated on...a hike...nearby." Harry rolled his eyes. Draco was extracting the photos. "Have you seen this woman?" He displayed the images to the stranger.

Harry could read people. Even before the auror course on body language, he'd been fairly adept at recognizing the unspoken. He watched the man's striking grey eyes carefully, and saw evident recognition. But the stranger was reluctant. He shook his bearded head, looked at the ground and hurried away muttering. "No. No. Never seen."

"Ah. Thanks, then." Draco watched him scurry, knowing even without any training that something was amiss. "Bit strange, that." He looked at Harry. "Was it just me?"

"No." Harry was watching the man chat briefly with another villager. "No, I think he recognized her."

"Perhaps that lady." Draco was stepping toward another passerby. "Miss? A moment, please?"

Harry watched Draco interact with the young woman. Saw a similar exchange as earlier. His hopes dropped a bit. He suspected a conspiracy. Chewed his lip. Draco was already off to approach another villager and again - an almost scripted denial. "Draco."

Draco returned. "This doesn't seem good."

"I don't think we're going to find any help here."

"It's almost like they're hiding something."

"Definitely."

"D'you think she's here somewhere?"

Harry frowned deeply. "I don't know. But I think we should regroup outside of this village. We're drawing some attention." Indeed the busy villagers were slowing now, staring. Some windows opened. Some windows closed. "Come on. Back to the field." They hastened toward the edge of the village.

They were nearly at the furthest fence line when a rather sultry voice stopped them in their tracks. "Heard you boys were looking for a woman?" They slowed. Pivoted in sync. A tall, slim villager emerged from the shadows, gingham dress swirling at her knees. She was smiling - whether kindly or threateningly was up for grabs. "You've found one." She spread graceful hands in an introductory gesture. "But I suppose...you've someone more specific in mind."

Draco looked to Potter for the lead this time. "Er…" Harry stepped forward, uncertainly. "Yes. This woman." He held out a hand for Draco's photos. Draco fumbled for them. Dropped them. Knelt to retrieve them, but was distracted on his way up by...legs. A lovely pair of them. He cleared his throat as he offered the photos.

"My mother," he said, clearing his throat.

The stranger accepted the photos, leaning into Draco's space easily. She pushed a golden blonde curl behind an ear. "Lovely," she commented. Slender fingers tilted Draco's face up. "I can see the resemblance."

And Harry could see the distraction. "Do you recognize her?" He asked forcefully.

Soft eyes flitted to his own. She was older than she seemed. "Perhaps. A witch?"

Surprise passed briefly betwixt the wizards. "Yes." Draco recovered quickly. "She is. You've seen her?"

"I see quite a few witches." She handed the photos back. "After a while, they all look the same." She shrugged, started to turn away.

"Wait! Miss -" Draco reached for her. "I'm sorry. What's your name."

Back to smiles. "Call me Jess."

"Jess. Please." Draco took hold of her smooth elbows. "I desperately want to find my mother."

"Well." Jess waffled. "I desperately want to buy a new pair of shoes, but…" She lifted her feet and glanced disparagingly at her worn leather flats. Draco looked, too. At the shoes. Not the legs. Well, okay...the legs, mostly.

"I'll buy you shoes," he blurted. "I have money."

"Draco -" Harry stepped up to warning.

"Draco!" Jess exclaimed. "What a promising name..."

Malfoy held up a silencing hand in Potter's face. "Shut up, Harry." He produced a pouch from his trouser pocket. It jingled with promise. Jess brightened visibly, reached for the pouch. Draco pulled it out of her reach. "There's about thirty galleons there," he said. "But there could easily be more. Tell me where she is."

Jess sighed. Looked from the galleons to Draco's earnest face. "I can't," she admitted. The wizards slumped. "But I'll take you to who can." They straightened again.

"Now?" Harry asked.

"Well of course now," she said. "Come on." She started around the corner of a nearby house. "Unless…" She stopped. Draco bumped (totally accidentally) into her back. "You'd rather go first thing in the morning. You could stay with me tonight. I mean, our humble hamlet _does_ get a bit cold at night, but I'm sure we could find a way to warm up."

"I'm a very warm-natured person."

"Malfoy!" Harry jabbed his companion's shoulder. "Now."

Jess chuckled, clearly enjoying rankling the young men. "Don't say I didn't offer my hospitality, Harry."

She led them through the shadows of the village. Kept to the outskirts. She didn't want to be seen cavorting with these strangers. But her skulking had Harry on alert. Soon, they slinked around a worn corner of barn. Jess gestured for them to hang back. "Wait here," she whispered. "I'll see if he's inside."

Jess disappeared betwixt the cracked barn doors and Harry cuffed Draco swiftly upside his head. "You great bloody idiot!" He hissed tightly.

"What?!" Draco smoothed his mussed hair.

"You can _not_ throw money around at these people! Can you imagine this entire village finding out you're the wealthiest wizard in Britain?"

"Second wealthiest. Bloody reparations."

"Doesn't fucking matter!" Harry pointed to the barn door. "That woman in there - we don't know if we can trust her, Malfoy. And if she -"

"Shhh!" Draco clamped a hand over Harry's mouth, pulling the other wizard into an awkward half-hug. "I hear them talking."

"Mmmrphmnegh."

"Sorry, Potter." Draco removed his hand from Harry's mouth. Potter looked violent for a second, but finally waived the emotion to join his comrade leaning against the barn door.

" _Why, Jessica. Such a pleasure to have your visit."_

" _Alastor. Always nice to see you, too."_

" _Did you bring me a treat? Perhaps a...pear or a chocolate button?"_ Alastor's voice was warm if a bit gruff.

" _You're positively rotten." Jess chuckled. "Here."_

" _You're here for more than delivering chocolate buttons to an old goat like me, Jessa-witch."_ Harry's and Draco's brows rose. " _What do you want, lovely thing?"_

" _There are two strangers here, Alastor. Mere boy wizards, really, but...they're looking for that witch who passed through. The one you saw to Lamwitch."_

" _Ah. And you've...brought them here?"_

" _I seek your counsel, Alastor."_

 _A deep chuckle. "Surprising that you could not...divert them."_

" _The dark-haired one would not be distracted." A grunt. "The blonde one on the other hand…"_

" _The blonde one?"_

" _Let's just say I'd gladly have him on the other hand."_ Draco blushed hotly. Harry rolled his eyes. " _So what shall I tell them?"_

 _A sigh. "Bring them in. I shall...take them to the witch. Best to remove them from our midst before the villagers get too stirred up."_

" _Very well, Alastor. I'll bring them in."_

Harry pulled away from the door, hauling Draco with him just as Jess squeezed through. "Hello," she chirped.

"Hi," Draco replied breathlessly. "What's up?"

Jess grinned. "Alastor says he'll take you to your mother."

"That's brilliant!"

Harry balked, allowing hope to only flit on his features.

"Come on." Jess tugged Draco by the elbow. "I'll introduce you to him."

The barn was dusty, but surprisingly clean. It seemed appointed more for storage than livestock. Bits of furniture were arranged comfortably. Neat hay bales were mostly undisturbed. A candle burned on a polished table, where a sleek brown goat flicked its ear.

"Harry. Draco," Jess announced. "Alastor."

The goat bleated. Harry looked about. Draco (for some reason) was looking up into the rafters. "Er...where?" Potter asked. His suspicion was growing dangerously.

"Alastor!" Jess scolded the goat. "Stop fooling about!"

The goat bleated.

"You've got to be joking," Draco spat. "You're a complete nutter!"

"Who were you talking to in here?" Harry demanded. "We heard a man's voice!"

Jess drew up fantastically. "Were you eavesdropping? How rude!"

"I want my money back!" Draco took the older witch by the elbow again, hoping his slightly taller stature might intimidate.

The tactic failed. Jess pressed fully against him. "Take it, then," she offered sweetly. "If you can find it. I like it rough."

Draco growled in frustration, whirling away from the flustering female.

"Alastor!" Jess scolded again and stamped her foot.

The goat bleated...then laughed. Like...people laughter. "Ohhh, I'm larking about, though," it said with great humour. "That joke never gets old."

Draco had grabbed Harry now, eyes wide. "Potter that's a talking goat."

"I see that, Malfoy."

"Yepyep, we've established that we can all talk. How delightful." Alastor's little goat hoofs made a click clop against the board floors as he walked over to the wizards. "Do either of you have a treat, perhaps? A chocolate button or...a bit of fruit?"

"Uh…" Draco faltered.

But Harry fished in his pocket. "I've got a cough drop."

"Perfect!" Coarse, wet goat lips rippled around Harry's fingers. "Umnumnumnum. That's refreshing." His ears flicked with surprise at the mentholatum kick. "My, my yepyepyepyepyep."

Harry and Draco watched the goat make quick work of the cough drop before Draco spoke. "You...you know where to find my mother?"

"Oh, yes quite. Your mother." Alastor smacked the last cough drop pleasure. "Such a nice witch. I'll take you to her."

"For...a cough drop?" Harry asked suspiciously.

The goat - Alastor was headed for the barn doors. "Well, I do wish to live deliciously. And...I suppose our Jessawitch has fleeced you enough, eh?" He cast a baneful (for a goat) glance at the suddenly silent witch.

Draco glared at her, too. "Oh, put the judgment away, blondie," she drawled, lounging on a hay bale. "I could have had you like a cheap cheese board."

"You -"

"Draco." Potter patted his shoulder. "Save it. Let's go."

"Yepyep best to get going," Alastor said. "Long journey ahead. Jessa, say good-bye to the boys!"

Behind them in the barn, witch laughter rang out. "Good-bye, boys!"

In the sunlight, Draco and Harry paused behind their goat guide. "Potter, I don't know about this…"

Harry gestured. "Seems perfectly legitimate to me, Malfoy. Talking goat." Just ahead, Alastor's tail flipped up. His ear flapped a fly. Harry grinned out of control. "And - I mean honestly, Draco, look at him! He's fucking adorable!"

Draco was a bit later to follow Harry and the goat, not particularly charmed by Alastor's goatness. He lingered a moment longer in the swept street, considering the possible folly of their journey. Then, sensing Jess slipping out of the barn behind him, he rushed to catch up to his unlikely travel mates. "Live bloody deliciously," he muttered. "Indeed..."

 _Indeed. Thank you for your patience. We're moving along, now, I believe. No Amazons...yet._


End file.
